


hot summer nights

by cobrostarship



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst probably, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, I promise, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Set in the 90s, Sonia Kaspbrak is Not That Bad, Violence, don’t let the preview fool you the fic isnt in 1st person, hot summer nights au, i'll leave them like this for now, idk if theres gonna be sexual content yet, probably wont be that graphic tho, shes also not in the story for that long so, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 07:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15091619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobrostarship/pseuds/cobrostarship
Summary: When Eddie Kaspbrak arrived, the town wasn’t all that different than any other. It was hot in the summer and cold in the winter. When it was Christmas you were just six months away from the Fourth of July, and when it was the Fourth of July you were just six months away from Christmas. People hung American flags on their porches, worked their shitty nine-to-five jobs, and went to church on Sundays. A lot of things happened that year; America went to war, Freddie Mercury died of aids, and I turned 13 years old.And in Derry, Maine it was the hottest summer in 68 years.(Or; The self-indulgent Hot Summer Nights reddie AU that no one asked for but I'm writing anyway.)





	1. in the heat of the summer

**Author's Note:**

> hey! bear with me here, this is my first fic and it's un-beta'd so it's probably a little rough! the first chapter is near identical to the beginning of the movie, but i plan on changing up the rest of the plot a bit. that being said, this story is heavily inspired by the movie and won't be spoiler free. if you plan on watching the movie and don't care for spoilers, i suggest not reading this! but if you don't care about spoilers and decide to read then i hope u enjoy! :~)

_This is a (mostly) true story._

_It all happened a while back in the town I grew up in. I can’t swear to every last detail, but I can swear to most of them. So, I don’t care what the newspapers said or what your parents told you. When the storm came and blew the whole world to the ground, this is what really happened._

—

Eddie sat on the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom, legs crossed and a bandana wrapped around his head. Outside the door, his mother busied herself, tidying the hallway and clipping in her gaudy earrings. Without knocking, she let herself into Eddie’s room.

“Eddie-bear, I’m going to see your father. Do you want to come?” she asked, shrill voice ripping Eddie from the quiet sanctuary he created. He didn’t respond. “You know, if I wanted to talk to something that didn’t talk back I’d get a cat.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Asthma, remember?” Eddie said, not looking up from the floor. “Besides, I’m meditating.”

“Edward, do you think this is easy on me?” his mother started. “Because it’s not, it sucks. I miss your father more than anything.”

Frank Kaspbrak was a good man, the kind they just don’t make anymore. He loved his son and his wife, changed the oil in his car all by himself, and fought in Vietnam for Christ’s sake.

So when he died, it fucked Eddie up. He quit his paper route and burned all the records his father gave him. He thought it would help him cope, but everyone warned that it was ‘a cry for help’ or some other bullshit excuse that Eddie wasn’t here for.

So here he was now, standing shoulder to shoulder with his mother in front of his father’s tombstone.

“You’re spending the summer with your aunt in Maine.”

_“Fuck.”_

“Watch your mouth for God’s sake, Edward! We’re in a _cemetery,_ ” his mother scolded.

“So you’re just gonna ship me off for the summer, like some sort of, _I don’t know_ , cliche?” Eddie argued.

“I had a lot of fun in Maine after I graduated high school, before I—“ Eddie cut her off.

“Before you started shoving fucking _tasty cakes_ in your mouth at a mile a minute?” he finished, not lifting his eyes to meet his mother’s guaranteed fuming form. He heard her sharply inhale through her nose.

“I hope to God you’re anything like your father.”

—

_When Eddie Kaspbrak arrived, the town wasn’t all that different than any other. It was hot in the summer and cold in the winter. When it was Christmas you were just six months away from the Fourth of July, and when it was the Fourth of July you were just six months away from Christmas. People hung American flags on their porches, worked their shitty nine-to-five jobs, and went to church on Sundays. A lot of things happened that year; America went to war, Freddie Mercury died of aids, and I turned 13 years old._

_And in Derry, Maine it was the hottest summer in 68 years._

—

Eddie learned, very quickly, the two types of people you could be when arriving in Derry. There were the summer birds, a bunch of stuck up, wealthy people who came from Massachusetts or Connecticut or wherever the fuck else and had kids named shit like _Tanner_ and _Kendall_. Then, there were the townies. The people who grew up in Shithole, USA and lived there their whole lives. Eddie obviously wasn’t a townie because he definitely _was not_ from Derry, but he also wasn’t a summer bird because his family wasn’t rich. They didn’t have a name for people like that, but whatever it was, he didn’t want to be it.

That’s how he found himself at a party, sipping piss warm beer from a solo cup and standing alone like some sort of brooding asshole.

The music was blaring and he could barely hear a damn thing, “Are you a summer bird?” a girl asked.

“What?”

“A summer bird,” she repeated.

“Oh no, no.”

“A townie, then?” she questioned. Eddie gave her another quick ‘no’ and she walked away, leaving him standing alone once again. He shimmied his way past a crowded doorway, drink inevitably getting knocked out of his hands.

Making his way through the sea of drunk as fuck teenagers, Eddie stepped outside. As he walked down the driveway, a sleek, cherry red Chevy pulled in in its wake. The door opened, and out stepped a tall, curly-haired boy with a cigarette dangling between his lips.

It was 96 degrees when Eddie Kaspbrak first laid eyes on that cold-blooded mother fucker, Richie Tozier.

And Richie Tozier wasn’t sweating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title is from summer by brockhampton!
> 
> to clear up any confusion: this fic is set in 1991 and the italicized paragraphs are georgie denbrough recalling what happened that year (hence the “and i turned 13 years old”) so whenever you see them, that’s him narrating. the rest of the story will be in third person omniscient  
> also: richie is 19 in this and eddie is 18


	2. you’re so different from the rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un-beta’d once again. sorry this is so short, i hope y’all enjoy!

The best part of being stuck in Derry, Eddie thought, was the job his aunt got him. It was a shitty, below minimum wage kind of deal that manifested itself as a rundown convenience store on the edge of town. The real kicker, though, was it _rarely_ got business. Eddie could just sit, elbows propped against the counter, and stare out the window _all damn day._ He couldn’t have been happier.

So that’s exactly what he did. Eddie was perfectly fine basking in silence and doing nothing else, until the loud screech of tire on asphalt broke him out of his little bubble. He glanced out the window and his eyes met the same flashy, red Chevy he witnessed just days earlier.

And lo and behold, Richie Tozier was stepping out of the driver's seat. 

He made his way up the steps and past the door, bell jostling as he hurriedly pushed it open.

Before Eddie had time to say anything, Richie was sliding two dime bags full of pot across the counter. “Hide these.”

“What the _fuck?”_

“Listen, man. Just _hide them.”_ Richie persisted, just as a police car pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store.

Eddie grabbed the baggies and opened the cash register, depositing them quickly and slamming the register shut as the sheriff made his way through the door. Richie busied himself, rifling through the magazines in attempt to make himself look less suspicious.

The sheriff took a quick glance around, walking throughout the aisles like he was some sort of cliche in a _fucking Western_ that was waiting for a brawl at _high noon._ He grabbed a soda from one of the coolers, and that’s when Eddie realized what kind of shit he had gotten himself into.

_Fuck._

There was no way in hell he could open that register without incriminating Richie, and quite possibly himself as well.

As he made his way to the checkout, Eddie _(as nonchalantly as ever)_ blurted, “It’s free!”

“What’d you say, son?”

“It’s hot out,” he breathed. “Drink’s free.”

The sheriff gave him a questioning look, but retreated from the store regardless. As soon as he made his way out the door, Eddie let out a relieved sigh. He grabbed his inhaler out of his pocket and took two pumps, vaguely hearing Richie’s mocking laugh in the midst of his panic.

“You okay, kid?” he asked, locking his eyes with Eddie’s.

—

_Word got around fast in Derry, even to people like Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie Tozier was quite the household name. You see, the thing about these summer birds was that they fucking loved to get high. They felt less guilty buying pot off of Richie instead of some random kid on a street corner. They’d come into his shop for an oil change and leave with the best shit this side of Maine had to offer. So, if you were anywhere near Derry during the summer of ‘91, you knew his name. And everyone knew the stories._

_“He’s a criminal.”_

_“Waste of talent.”_

_“I heard he got kicked out of school because he boned Principal Brenner’s wife. In the butt.”_

_“Rumor has it he has a ten inch dick.” “Eleven inches, you fucking idiot!”_

_But there was one thing that everyone could agree on._

_“I heard he killed a man.”_

_“He killed someone.”_

_“Fucking killed ‘em.”_

_Despite being the talk of the town, Richie Tozier was just another townie. Just like the fucking rest of them._

_—_  

 _“Hello?_ You there, kid?” he snapped his fingers to get Eddie’s attention. “Can I get my weed back or what?” 

Eddie blinked slowly, fumbling to open the register and slide the bags across the table. 

Richie grabbed them and laughed, “You get high?” 

— 

And that’s how Eddie found himself at some summer bird party, following around _Richie Tozier_ like some sort of lost puppy. He couldn’t have felt more out of place. Richie led him through the house, passing all sorts of shit Eddie never thought he would’ve seen in all his eighteen years of life. There were people doing coke off of coffee tables, others practically fucking on the living room couch, and a guy who look near fucking _overdosed_ on the floor of the room Richie brought him to.

“What’s your name, kid?” Richie asked. 

“Oh, uh—“ he started, “Eddie, my name is Eddie.”

“Eddie, huh? I’m gonna call you Eds.” Richie tells him, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“I’d really rather you not.”

“You gonna take the hit or what, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie questioned, nodding to the bong that sat on the table below them. 

Eddie gulped, lowering himself down and placing his mouth over the bong. Richie flicked his lighter on and held the flame to the bowl. _It’s now or never_ , Eddie thought. He closed his eyes and inhaled, probably for longer than he was supposed to, then lifted himself off the ground on shaky knees. He exhaled, feeling as if all the blood in his body was rushing to his head.

And then he promptly _passed the fuck out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title once again from summer by brockhampton:)

**Author's Note:**

> chapter title is from summer by brockhampton!
> 
> to clear up any confusion: this fic is set in 1991 and the italicized paragraphs are georgie denbrough recalling what happened that year (hence the “and i turned 13 years old”) so whenever you see them, that’s him narrating. the rest of the story will be in third person omniscient  
> also: richie is 19 in this and eddie is 18


End file.
